


Hard Truths

by Marie Blackpool (LynnC), Sylvia Knight (Gayle)



Category: Wiseguy
Genre: Betrayal, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Undercover, Zine: No Holds Barred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1994-05-01
Updated: 1994-05-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynnC/pseuds/Marie%20Blackpool, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gayle/pseuds/Sylvia%20Knight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vinnie can't stay away</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard Truths

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Marie Blackpool's 'St. Christopher's Lie'. Originally published in [No Holds Barred](http://fanlore.org/wiki/No_Holds_Barred) #5.

"Fucking traffic," Vinnie growled as he rode up the elevator to the penthouse offices. He glanced at his watch again, but it hadn't subtracted the required half hour. He was late. The elevators doors opened and Vince surged out. 

"Yeah, yeah," he snapped at the secretary who pointed him at Steelgrave's office, then forced himself to take a second to apologize _. Better watch it, Terranova,_ he warned himself, striding past the rest of the secretaries and office boys to Sonny's palatial suite of rooms. Vinnie knew he was getting jumpy and sharp tempered. And he knew why. After the first giddy effervescence faded, he'd told himself it was a relief that Sonny showed no inclination to follow up on their one impulsive encounter. A week later, anxiety was edging the relief that nothing more had happened—just as it edged the anticipation that it might happen again, despite Sonny's coolness.

When he slipped in the door, Sid was in mid-smarm: " . . . this man is getting out of control and must be dealt with, otherwise Mr. Patrice will take steps himself."

Sonny was looking hot under the collar, pacing around trying to keep his back to Royce, it appeared. They both turned to glare at Vinnie as he aimed for a seat, muttering, "Sorry, got held up."

Sonny dismissed his tardiness with a pointed frown, sighed heavily, and ran a hand over his striped tie. "You tell Mr. Patrice, Sidney, that I have Damonte under control. If I need any help from him I will ask. I'm more likely to go to the Feds for help, but I will keep Patrice's kind offer under consideration." _For a cold day in hell,_ Vinnie grumbled inwardly. Despite Steelgrave's unnerving comment, the current argument wouldn't provide more than a stale tidbit to toss Frank. 

He watched the two antagonists face off. Sonny's lips were working strenuously as he tried to keep from snarling, Vinnie could tell. Sid curled his own lips in Sonny's direction, peering over his wire rims. "I hardly think asking those buffoons in blue for help is a wise plan. Mr. Patrice can have his men mobilized and at your disposal in a matter of minutes . . . ."

"We aren't interested in his help," Sonny snapped. Vinnie thought it was the royal "we" until he noticed with surprise that Sonny was looking directly at him for the first time in a week, instead of slipping him the now too familiar shifting glance. Vinnie realized Sonny wanted his support and shook himself out of his funk.

"We can get our guys moving faster than you can dial Patrice's number. Assuming, of course," Vinnie smirked at Royce, "that you don't have this place bugged for him, so's he don't need the call."

Royce straightened his shoulders primly and glared down his nose at Vinnie. "I shall give that remark the attention it is due." He looked away dramatically. Vinnie smiled and lounged more comfortably. It was so easy to make Royce look like an ass. Vinnie flashed a look at Sonny, wanting to share the private amusement, but Sonny was disappointingly focusing on Sid rather than him. Vinnie felt his minor triumph pall.

"Maybe you missed my point, Sid," Sonny said, losing his temper. He leaned over the desk on balled fists. "I don't want his help. The merits of the officers of the law are not my interest here, I mention them purely as a matter of contrast. I guess you didn't follow. I suggest you get back to the accounts and stop moonlighting in larger issues that don't concern you directly."

Royce flushed a magenta color. He huffed and hemmed a moment, before swiveling to regard Vinnie, sprawled in the chair. Oiling across the room, Sid scanned him from T-shirt and leather jacket down to worn jeans and track shoes, then up again, his gaze resting at last on his crotch with deliberate insinuation. "And this lavender Neanderthal? These delicate political issues concern **him**?"

The bright flare of anger felt really good, and Vinnie let it carry him to his feet. Though he would happily have flattened Sid, he forced himself to stand casually, feeling Sonny's sharp eye on him. Royce had backed up a good six feet, and Vince sized up his fish-mouthed distress with satisfaction. "Name calling is the refuge of the unimaginative, Sid. I didn't realize you were this jealous of me. We'll have to talk about it."

With visible effort, Sid gathered the shreds of his pomposity, and surveyed Vince's physique a final time. "Hah," he squeaked, and exited with his folders clutched to his chest.

The warm heat of anger faded with Sid's cowed exit. Left alone with Steelgrave, Vinnie felt peevish again. Sonny was not smiling at the routing of Royce, he was pouting at his computer terminal. Vinnie hovered a moment, shifting from one foot to the other, and finally cleared his throat hesitantly. "Uh, Sonny, you want anything?"

Sonny glanced at him furtively, and his gaze flicked up and down in a weird replay of Sid's appraisal, but rendered with an expression of wariness. "Uh, no," he said, eyes twitching away.

Vinnie hung about wondering if he should approach Sonny, make jokes about Royce, try punching him on the arm. His fingers curled into fists, yearning for that one playful, permitted caress. For all the warnings Vinnie gave himself about how stupid, how dangerous it would be to start up again, he still could not shut out the voice that kept whispering, silently, whenever he looked at Sonny, _Don't you want me?_ Well, the answer was plainly _No_ , and better that way. With an act of will, Vinnie kept his hands to himself. It was bad enough that he liked Steelgrave as much as he did. He damn well was not going to try and seduce this man he had to betray.

He headed for the door, but just before he opened it, Sonny suddenly ventured, "The Riveras-Jackson match is tonight at the Dome, you wanna go?"

Vinnie did a doubletake, wondering if he heard right. He smiled cautiously. "Yeah, that would be good. Sure, Sonny."

Sonny sneaked another look, smiled almost shyly. "Okay, great, I'll call you later about it." He looked back at his terminal and punched on the keys busily.

Hope and trepidation warring in him, Vinnie let himself out quietly.

∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴∴

"Hookers," Vinnie muttered. Finishing his touch up job, he tossed his razor aside with a clatter. His reflection observed him with a disgusted expression. With a sigh, he made another attempt to squash his emotions into the proper pigeon holes, knowing damn well they didn't fit. Sonny was due to pick him up in a couple of minutes. He had phoned earlier to set them up for a late dinner before the fight . . . and then had mumbled something about hookers after. Despite his physical frustration, Vinnie found it impossible to get enthused. He wouldn't deny there had been times when he'd gotten too much into the part, times when the glitzy decadence had turned him on . . . but it always felt hollow afterwards. Tonight it was feeling hollow before.

Without bidding, a barrage of images flashed in his mind—Sonny stripping off his clothes, revealing the smooth-muscled body that contained such a ferocious strength. The hot-breathed siege of Sonny's demands mingling with the tenderness of his trust. The vivid pleasure of Sonny arching against him as he came, his cock pulsing in Vinnie's hand. He heard Sonny's whisper urging _, "Come on, Vinnie, let yourself go,''_ and remembered how it felt to do that at last, to wrap his arms around Sonny and loose his fevered passion against that hot, hard body . . . .

Vinnie shoved down the provocative thoughts, and tried to ignore the sulky jabs of arousal coming from his groin. He conjured previous call girls Sonny had provided, expensive models with their hard edges carefully buffed, their eyes, their laughter always a little too bright. It turned him off quite effectively.

All right, Steelgrave had come to his senses and decided that screwing around with the help, at least the male help, was too risky a proposition. Great. One crazy dilemma resolved. Vinnie just wished things could go back to normal, if they were going to pretend they hadn't done it. Except that lightweight bouts and high class hookers were back to normal. Obviously, for Sonny, the escapade had been motivated less by desire than curiosity and possessiveness. And If Steelgrave planned to reaffirm the former sexual order of his universe, Vinnie had damn well better play out the scenario—even if it made **him** feel like the whore.

"Hey, Vince!" On cue, he heard Sonny's voice from the living room, and purposefully squelched the quick flare of anticipation he felt.

He came out buttoning his shirt. "I'll be ready in a minute, Sonny."

"They canceled the match," Steelgrave announced, flashing him one cursory glance, then prowling the room restlessly. "Riveras busted his hand in some bar room brawl, if you can believe it." The prowl stopped by the windows and Sonny stood, looking out at the city, night and its neon pleasures beckoning.

Vinnie watched him for a minute, feeling rebuffed. "So, where do you wanna go instead?"

His back still to Vinnie, Sonny flexed and squared his shoulders. The familiar gesture put him instantly on the alert. Sonny had something planned. Nothing lethal, Vinnie hoped. Then Sonny turned, the dark gaze meeting his across the room. Vinnie's pulse thrummed in response, apprehension and anticipation beating a nervous tattoo in his veins. Over a week of wondering when, and Steelgrave had caught him by surprise. Holding his gaze, Sonny walked over until they stood face to face, their bodies almost but not quite touching.

"I dunno," Sonny said, his eyes intense and inquiring. "I been thinking . . . maybe we should just stay here."

Then Sonny kissed him, his head tilting to meet Vinnie's mouth, lips warm and mobile as they played against his own in a medley of light brushes and soft nibbles. The kiss lingered, deceptively casual, each tantalizing caress repeating the question he was afraid to answer. The gentle coaxing went on, only their lips touching, though every nerve of Vinnie's body tingled in response. Sonny did not embrace him, but his hand stole into Vinnie's, his fingers entwining, tentative and sweet, then closing firm in his grasp. Dizzy with longing, Vinnie took the step that closed the gap between them.

"I like the way we fit," Sonny murmured, meaning more than their bodies, Vinnie knew. Sonny clasped his other hand, drawing their arms taut to pull them closer together. The warmth of longing flared to a brighter heat, and Vinnie felt his heart racketing in his chest. Still gentle, Sonny's kiss became deliberately seductive. Settling on Vinnie's lower lip, he drew it into his mouth and sucked at it softly, lips, tongue and teeth working in sensuous harmony. Then he released it, and Vinnie felt the wet, velvety warmth of Sonny's tongue lick full across his lips. He gasped aloud and Sonny was in his mouth, exploring with lascivious insistence. With a hot pulse, Vinnie's cock jolted to life. Sonny lifted his head back, but his hips pressed closer, framing Vinnie's hardness. "Oh yeah, he whispered, "you want to stay here."

"Yeah," Vinnie agreed, drawing back a step to break their contact and taking hold of Sonny's arms to keep them apart. "Part of me wants to real bad, Sonny. And most of me still thinks this is gonna wreck everything we got going. I don't want to lose that. It's more important."

Sonny looked at him seriously, and the challenge was soft-voiced. "Since when have you been a guy to hold back, Vinnie? You were always ready to go for it all." He gave a truculent shrug, then added, "Me, I spent all week sampling a smorgasbord of the finest female flesh on the boardwalk, and walked away hungry. You can't tell me you aren't craving the same thing I am."

"Maybe I am . . . but I don't want a banquet now if it means a famine later." Vinnie walked away, fighting his own surge of gratification at Steelgrave's confession. He was furious with himself for letting go this far, just to get one more taste of Sonny. He had never even tried to think of a smooth way to turn Steelgrave down, and keep his place in the organization secure. The first time had been so crazy, he'd told himself that he'd play it by ear. Like hell. It wasn't his ear he was letting run this game.

"You can't see that," Sonny argued behind him. "What good are we doing ourselves watching each other, and thinking about it, and reining it in?"

"We've been doing okay so far." _Limp, Terranova,_ he thought, _really limp_. If Sonny wanted to whack you instead of whack off, you'd have fast talked your way out of this by now. _Like last time?_ Another inner voice mocked. When it came to Sonny's irresistible force, his immovable object was set on topple. He had to say no and mean it. With the erection he was sporting, _No, I don't want you_ , would never work. _No, I won't let you_ , was the only thing that had a chance. Show one shred of ambiguity and they'd be on the bed rubbing cocks again.

"Okay?" Sonny was smiling as if Vinnie had just made his point. "Wasn't that you almost busted Sid in the chops this morning?" he inquired. "For nothing more than being his usual oozing slimeball self?"

"Well, he oozed too close," Vinnie muttered.

"Sid was just jerking your chain. Knowing you're AC/DC makes him think he's more a man than you."

They looked at each other and snorted. "Sid ain't exactly a versatile personality," Vinnie said, "but I think it was something besides my chain he wanted to jerk."

"Don't worry about Sid's plump little paws." Sonny's lingering look at Vinnie's crotch showed him that Steelgrave had no doubts about what particular masculine assets were under discussion. Lifting that sly gaze, Sonny added a conspiratorial grin. "I had some research done, and there weren't no tutus hidden in Royce's closet, not unless it's really, really deep. Weird, since he's the only one that acts like a fairy," Sonny shook his head, then cast an apologetic glance at Vinnie. "Ah . . . sorry about that."

"About what?" he asked, perplexed, then sighed, "Shit, Sonny, you don't have to be politically correct with me, you know. I don't exactly picture myself with limp wrists."

"After today, I don't think Sid does either. You're like me, Vinnie, you get mean when you're hungry. You should have heard me on the phone with Patrice this afternoon." Sonny set his chin at a belligerent angle, twitched his eyebrows, and drawled, "I was positively rude . . . yes?"

Vinnie grinned at the gritty imitation of Sid.

Sonny took the smile as an excuse to saunter up to him, judging to a millimeter how close he could get without Vinnie backing up or holding him off. But Vince knew what he doing, and he had to put a stop to it. He made his voice hard, "No, Sonny. I don't want sex to sabotage our friendship."

But refusal only sparked the glitter of challenge in Steelgrave's eyes. "So far, when we get mean, we've been taking it out on other people. If we don't watch out we're gonna turn and start snapping at each other's throats. Can't get the juice—we go for blood. That'll sabotage what we got just as easy."

"No," Vinnie insisted. "I won't risk it."

"Everything's a risk." In two steps Sonny was pressed close to him again, lips nuzzling at Vinnie's neck, hips playing a teasing dance against his aching hard on. "Come on, Vinnie, if this risk ain't worth taking, what is?"

Sonny just would not stop coming. For one flaming, frustrated instant Vince was tempted to deck him. Good luck with that. If he didn't knock Steelgrave cold, he'd bounce up with, _You wanna play rough, kid? Fine with me_. Instead Vinnie stood, willing himself motionless, while Sonny nipped lightly up his throat. Then he felt Sonny's warm breath stream inside his ear. He shivered involuntarily with the tickling sensation. A soft laugh escaped him, and he took hold of Sonny's arms. It made him feel sixteen, innocent and hot as hell, to have someone blow in his ear. Once again, Steelgrave had totally subverted his defenses. "Sonny . . . ."

"I can't stop thinking about you," Sonny purred. "About what we did. About everything we haven't done yet." Sonny bit his earlobe, and then the same rough purr told him, "I want to fuck you, Vinnie. I want to fuck you so bad I can taste it."

For a second, Vinnie froze, panic uncurling in his gut, his hard on withering abruptly. "No," he said, almost choking on the word.

"Easy." Even as he started to pull away, Sonny's hands tightened on him, but gently, and Sonny looked up at him. Something in that intent expression kept Vince quiet, while his own aversion and his cop instincts screamed at him to take the escape, now when he had the chance. This irrational fear he could play to the hilt. 

"No. I won't do that . . . ." he began.

But Sonny put a hand to his lips. "Hush," he said. "I know some bad stuff happened to you in the joint, Vinnie. I'm not gonna push you into anything."

"Yeah, right," Vinnie snorted, utterly exasperated. He would have burst out laughing if he weren't so freaked.

"I kinda bullied my way into your bed last time, didn't I?" Sonny said, without apology.

"Kinda," Vinnie eyed him askance. Didn't Sonny know he was trying it again?

"And then I kept you at arm's length."

"Further than that," Vinnie said tightly, feeling the sting anew.

"You know you're the only man I been with, Vinnie. And I didn't think things though the first time. So this week I've been doin' that . . . ." Sonny said, the quiet seriousness licked with fire around the edges. "The relationship we got at work, it's good. I'm the boss, but you're your own man. You're honest with me. You give me your loyalty, but you tell me when you think I'm wrong. But in bed, it's got to be more than that. If you think you can't come on to me, if you think you gotta say yes, it'll drive you away from me. If we're lovers, it's gotta be equal between us. So . . . ." he hesitated a second, but his voice, his gaze were steady when he said, "Why don't you fuck me first, Vinnie?"

Stunned, Vinnie stared at Sonny in disbelief. This man, he thought, dazed, was endlessly surprising. Yet it was utterly typical, once Sonny decided he'd wanted something, to throw caution to the winds.

"I'm not asking you for anything I'm not willing to give," Sonny whispered fiercely. He took Vinnie's hands and guided them to his ass. The taut roundness filled Vinnie's grip, and Sonny's hands pressed his closer, squeezing his fingers into the lush, resilient flesh. A surge of fire engulfed Vince and he pulled Sonny against him, kissing him hungrily. Sonny's mouth opened to him, meeting the thrust of his tongue, and enveloping the invader with a wanton suction. Vinnie felt his faded erection spring to life, flaunting its heat and hardness between their bellies. Sonny gave a murmur of appreciation, and rubbed against it with slow, deliberate carnality. With a groan, Vinnie broke away from the kiss and buried his face against Sonny's neck. 

"You want to get into me, Vinnie?" the voice at his ear tempted.

"Christ, Sonny," Vinnie said helplessly, lust and tenderness molten inside him.

"I thought about it," Sonny said, leaning back to make Vinnie face him. "I want to know what it's like—if it's you showing me. When you let me inside you, I want to know what you're feeling."

The echo of fear was submerged in desire. Vinnie shook his head, but in acquiescence, not denial. The master of manipulation, Sonny had once again made it impossible to refuse. The offer was too generous, Sonny too vulnerable to deny. Say no now, and Steelgrave probably **would** whack him. "Damn you," he said, and kissed the other man ruthlessly, digging his fingers into his buttocks and pulling Sonny hard against his throbbing cock.

Sonny let him pillage his mouth, and pressed his growing erection against Vinnie's. Then he pulled away, smiling at Vince with lazy fire, "Trying to scare me off, Terranova? It won't work—I like you hot."

Catching hold of Vinnie's hand, Sonny moved back, guiding them into the bedroom. Bemusement tempering his lust, Vinnie followed his lead. Standing by the bed, Sonny tossed off his jacket and then unbuttoned Vinnie's shirt. Vince finished stripping it off while Sonny pushed up his t-shirt, stroking his chest and giving a teasing bite to each nipple. They took turns with Sonny's shirt, wanting to get their clothes off, but taking time for sensual touches. Vinnie ruffled the light hair on Sonny's chest, then reached down to undo the clasp, the zipper, of his Italian silk slacks. They dropped in a heap at his feet, revealing a pair of burgundy bikinis. Even if Steelgrave hadn't been swollen with anticipation, they still would have left nothing to the imagination.

"These are real cute, Sonny," Vinnie teased, running a fingertip under the top edge.

"What's in them is cuter."

Enjoying the gift-wrapped effect the bikinis offered, Vinnie cupped a hand over Sonny's genitals and fondled their plumpness through the stretchy fabric. "You mean all this?"

Sonny drew a sharp breath and reached a hand to Vinnie's shoulder to steady himself. Vinnie captured it with his free hand, and brought it to his lips, kissing and nipping the palm. His other hand gently squeezed the growing bulge inside the bikinis. "So much for that myth."

"What myth?" Sonny muttered, pressing himself into Vinnie's grasp.

"You got small hands, but a big cock."

"Yeah, well they both pack a wallop," Sonny growled. He grabbed hold of Vinnie's head and kissed him rapaciously.

Vinnie delved into the front of the bikinis, and Sonny moaned into their kiss as Vince's hand closed on his naked sex. Vince slid his other hand down the back of the skimpy garment, his hand sloping down the rounded curves of Sonny's cheeks, then drawing up so that his fingers trailed along the crack.

"Go on, touch it," Sonny whispered, leaning back to look at him. Vinnie repeated the caress, letting one searching finger brush over the warm, puckered aperture of the anus. Sonny's gaze never left Vinnie‘s, the black eyes scorching him with desire as he gently probed the opening, teasing a fingertip barely inside. "Give me your hand," Sonny said, and when he did, drew Vinnie's fingers into his mouth to wet them. "Go deeper. I like having my ass played with."

Sonny gave a soft hiss of encouragement as Vince pressed slowly inside, his finger circling, exploring as far as their embrace would allow. The tenderness and delicate obscenity of his own gesture made Vinnie's breath quicken, his heart hammer wildly in his chest. His cock was hard as iron, trapped between their bodies. Sonny's pelvis shifted in a lazy, libidinous sway, tilting back to insinuate Vinnie's finger a little deeper in his ass, forward to graze against his erection. Finally, it was Vince who looked away, pulled his hand away, and drew Sonny into an encompassing hug. Sonny's teeth worried his ear lobe, then his tongue licked within the shell and his breath blew cool into Vinnie's ear again. He clutched Sonny, shivering and scalded, the teasing innocence more torrid than the knowing carnality.

"C'mon, let's go to bed, Vinnie." Tossing back the covers, Sonny lay down on the sheet, then looked up at him. "You got something?" he asked, his voice hesitant for the first time. It took an instant for Vinnie to figure he meant lubricant. "Don't want to spoil the mood later."

Vinnie found some of the hotel's fancy body cream in the bathroom, and brought it back along with a towel. He put them on the table by the bed, his gaze traveling greedily over Sonny's now naked body. Since Steelgrave had stripped off the last flimsy stitch of his clothes, Vinnie shucked his own trousers and underwear. Looking up, he caught Sonny regarding his exposed erection apprehensively. Sonny was big, but Vince was bigger, and he had no trouble imagining how intimidating he looked, rigid and flushed scarlet with blood. Lying down beside Sonny on the bed, he could sense the new tension in the other man's body. Vinnie remembered how unthreatening the back rub Steelgrave had given him had been, and he began to gently massage Sonny's neck and shoulders. Sonny rolled face down and let Vinnie's hands work at his muscles. Purposefully, Vinnie did not straddle him, keeping his erect cock out of the contact, for his own sake as well as Sonny's. The prevalent view of mounded buttocks was making him throb with anticipation. Sonny enjoyed his ministrations for a bit, then rolled back to face him, gesturing with a nod of his head to the lubricant. "Come on, let's do it."

"You're still tense," Vinnie protested.

"This isn't tense," Sonny was piqued. "Tense was hanging out in the bookstore, hoping no one caught me leafing through _The Joy of Gay Sex_."

The image started Vinnie chuckling.

"Trying to be inconspicuous while you're getting a hard on is a bitch," Sonny complained, but he was smiling now.

Despite all the weird misunderstandings that had brought them to this point, Vinnie felt proud of him for embracing the adventure. "You get some inspiration, Sonny?" he asked, his fingertips lightly pinching Sonny's nipples into hardened peaks.

"I put you and me in those pictures, I get real inspired," Sonny muttered, dragging out the final syllables with a salacious slur. He guided Vinnie's hand to his cock. Closing his eyes, he breathed a fervid _yes_ as Vinnie curled his fingers round the shaft. He stroked its length with slow deliberation, then slid his hand down to palm Sonny's balls, playing with their softness while he studied the arrogant lift of Sonny's cock. It was more beautiful than his own, Vinnie thought, with its long, elegant curve and softer rose-colored blush. He realized his mouth was watering just looking at it, and wondered what it would taste like, how it would feel to suck it.

Bending over Sonny, Vinnie said, "You're the first man I've ever done this for."

Going with his own unexpected impulse, Vince took him all at once into his mouth. Sonny gasped and drove up hard, so that Vinnie had to grab his hips and hold him down. When Vince drew back from the choking thrust, Sonny moaned, "Jesus, Vinnie," and ran repentant fingers through his hair. Then, as Vinnie regarded the object of his desire with more trepidation, Sonny added, his fingertips tracing a cajoling line down Vinnie's cheek to circle his lips, "I ain't usually so impolite."

Vinnie began again, getting a good grip on the base before starting to suck him. He found the hot bulk of Sonny's cock filling his mouth both awkward and intensely erotic. At least he knew what felt good from the receiving end of the experience, and could try to approximate it. The shaft of his own cock was almost as sensitive as the head, so he began with the smooth, lingering sucking he liked best, and that let him get used to Sonny's supple thickness. Then, out of curiosity, he experimented, swabbing it all over with his tongue, hunting for special hot spots that were different from his own. He could feel the whole length of it quivering with delight when he licked under the ridge, and Sonny panted, "Do that. Do that again."

So he did it again, and then, delicately, he nibbled all around the edge with his teeth while Sonny lay shivering under him, whispering, "Christ . . . Christ . . . you get me so hot."

He sucked the head after that, to soothe the tantalizing threat of his teeth. He stopped when Sonny's hand tightened on his shoulder, instantly aware of the command it conveyed. "What do you want?" he asked hazily, adrift on his own voyage of discovery. "Want me to suck your balls?"

"Next time," Sonny said. He reached over and took the tube of lubricant from the table and handed it over. Deliberately, he opened his legs. "Get me ready, Vinnie."

His own cock jerked fiercely, but Vinnie still could not believe Sonny wanted him to do this. Searching Steelgrave's eyes, he saw nothing but determination and feverish excitement. Vinnie squeezed out some cream, then, fingers laden, he parted Sonny's cheeks and caressed the sphincter, relieved to find it relaxed enough to accept the first finger he inserted, spreading the lubricant within the rectum. Drawing back, he nudged a second finger inside the rim, pressing around the ring of muscle till Sonny took them both comfortably. He repeated the slow circling, loving the delicate feel of the skin beneath his fingertips as he stroked all around the channel.

"Go deeper in," Sonny told him. Guessing what he wanted, Vinnie pressed his fingers along the upper wall, searching for the change of texture that would reveal the prostate to him. "There, rub me there," Sonny hissed with excitement when he found it, and Vinnie teased the surface first gently and then with firmer pressure. Not at all sure he was ready to drink Sonny's come, but wanting the orgasm to be good for him, Vinnie started to suck him again. One hand still wrapped around Sonny's cock, he circled the head the way Steelgrave liked, licking underneath the ridge. All the while his fingers stoked the fire inside. Sonny writhed and thrashed beneath him, but he could take more stimulation than Vince would have believed possible. Finally Sonny gasped, "Stop . . . stop." And when Vince did, Sonny said, "I want to come with you in me."

"I'll be as gentle as I can, Sonny," Vinnie said, anxiety warring with his growing lust. "But I can't promise you're gonna like it the first time."

"I like your fingers, Vinnie," Sonny declared belligerently. "And I'm gonna love your cock."

Sonny picked up the tube. He squeezed a mound onto his palm, smoothing it over Vinnie's cock seductively, then closing his fist tight and jerking him with ruthless precision. Vinnie drew a sharp breath and pulled Sonny's hands away. "Keep that up and you're gonna get an eyeful instead of an assful," he warned testily.

Sonny just gave him a knowing grin, and tugged him into position between his thighs. Swallowing his own apprehension, Vinnie took Sonny's legs over his arms. Positioning himself carefully, he rubbed his cock head against the softened muscle, pressing himself forward as he felt it open to receive him. But the head of his cock was a lot bigger than the two fingers he'd slipped into Sonny, and he felt Steelgrave contract against the first, fractional penetration, his breathing suddenly quick and sharp. Vinnie waited a minute, feeling Sonny give a little, and he pushed a bit deeper, and then again, harder, and felt the head of his cock enter abruptly. He checked his movement, but Steelgrave's hands dug into his shoulders, and his voice rasped in Vinnie's ear, "You sure guys do this for kicks?"

"I'll pull out," Vinnie said instantly, his cock screaming at him to lunge forward.

"No, just gimme a minute."

Sonny closed his eyes and began breathing slowly and deliberately. After a moment, Vince could feel Sonny relax around him. Sonny's hands signaled him forward then stopped him against another spasm. Aroused as Vinnie was, fear of losing his erection was as strong as fear of losing control. He ached with sympathy for Sonny's pain. Then Sonny sighed and took him an inch deeper, and deeper still. There was another interval of slow breathing, but when Sonny relaxed again Vinnie eased all the way in. Then he forced himself to stop, fighting the compulsion to start thrusting into the exquisite tightness clasping his cock. He made himself breathe in harmony with Sonny.

"You okay?' he asked, since Sonny was so quiet.

"Feels kinda weird still," Sonny told him. "But the pain's gone."

Vinnie heaved his own sigh of relief, and his cock throbbed with eagerness.

"Ummmm, I felt that. Felt good." Sonny mused. Unexpectedly, he wiggled his ass, so that Vinnie gasped aloud, tightening every strand of his will power. Sonny gave him a impish smile, "Do I feel good, Terranova?"

"Yeah, Sonny. You feel real good," Vinnie said. Then, because that didn't reallytell Sonny much, he added softly, "You grip me real tight where I come into you, and you feel smooth as silk all along my cock."

"Sounds nice." Sonny closed his eyes and rocked his hips. "You're starting to feel real nice, too."

Vince held himself still, letting the other man experiment. Then Sonny's voice coaxed, "Come on, Vinnie, let me feel you move a little."

He kept his movements slow and sensuous—for Sonny's pleasure and to hold his own control. Sonny murmured at him, nonsensical affirmations that reassured Vince there was no pain. For a minute or two they drifted in a languorous realm, Vinnie's hips swaying in a rhythmic dance, his cock pulsing in the hot haven of Sonny's body. Tender as he felt, Vinnie didn't kiss or caress Sonny, but let them both focus on that one intense connection. Then Sonny gave a low moan, so pleasure-filled that Vince moaned to him in return, drawing back and pressing into him with his first deep thrust, sliding smooth as butter through Sonny's sweet flesh.

"Vinnie?" Sonny's hand stilled him with a quiet touch, and Vinnie lifted his head.

"Hummm?" he mumbled happily, not at all afraid he'd hurt him. But Sonny only stared up at him, his dark eyes full of inquiry. "What is it, Sonny?" he asked.

Sonny shook his head slightly, as if he hadn't meant the question. His expression was rapt yet oddly perplexed. "I never imagined it would feel like this," he said, as much to himself as to Vince. But before he could ask just how it felt, Sonny whispered, "Kiss me, Vinnie."

So Vince leaned forward and kissed him, as voluptuously as he could, delving his tongue into Sonny's mouth, his cock into his ass in seductive concert. And was rewarded with another of Sonny's long sighs. Then Sonny's hips moved beneath Vince, drawing another moan from his throat. "Come on, move, Vinnie," Sonny urged. "Gimme more. I want more of you."

Vinnie began slowly thrusting, keeping his first strokes shallow and easy, but building as Sonny showed nothing but responsiveness, encouraging Vince with words and touches that laved him like bright flames, lightly at first, then with rising heat that quickened his pace. "Yeah, do it, Vinnie," Sonny demanded, giving his arm a sharp bite. "Fuck me. I want you to really fuck me." The hot words, the play of Sonny's tongue and teeth on his flesh goaded Vince to plunge into the glorious promised oblivion. Sonny tilted his hips higher, and then Vinnie was driving hard, harder—only to hear Sonny yelp with pain and feel his body tensing beneath him. Vince forced himself to stop, clutching the ragged edge of his control.

"I'm sorry," he groaned into Sonny's shoulder. "I want you too much."

"S'okay . . . was just the change in angle." Sonny kissed his shoulder in turn, but he had not relaxed. His hands were poised on Vinnie's biceps, still ready to push him away.

Vince drew a long, harsh breath, then suggested, "Why don't you get on top, then you'll have the control."

"Sounds good," Sonny nodded.

Vinnie tried to imagine a smooth roll over that would keep their bodies linked, but he was worried he'd do it clumsily. So he pulled out slowly and gently, though losing the intimacy of their contact made him feel bereft. With his cock outside of Sonny, it seemed that every cell of his body ached with loneliness. And when Sonny straddled his thighs, he longed for the close embrace he had relinquished. But however much more protective the other position seemed, Sonny had been far more vulnerable. Settling over him, Steelgrave looked both mollified and eager to be in command. With a twinge of sadness, Vince wondered if the emotional distance, as well as the physical, was more comfortable for him.

But Sonny gave him a warm smile, his hands gliding down Vinnie's torso, "This is nice, too," he said, his gaze surveying Vinnie appreciatively. "I like to look at you."

After the compliment, Vinnie determined to go with the shift in mood. He stuffed another pillow under his head, making it easier to watch, and let Steelgrave take the lead. Sonny found the lubricant and slid some more over Vinnie's cock. The cream melted cool over the flaming heat of his need, and he shivered at the delicious contrast, pushing up into Sonny's tightening caress. A little attention to his cock, Vinnie reflected, and his mood was just terrific.

"Gonna put you inside me," Sonny said, teasing and warning. Shifting forward over his hips, Sonny guided Vinnie's cock between his cheeks. Centering himself, he pressed back against the straining hardness. Steelgrave gave a little grunt when he took the head inside him, then sucked in his breath sharply. Cursing his own fervent pleasure, Vinnie reached up to run a comforting hand along Sonny's thigh. Sonny looked down at him, his eyes hooded. "Yeah, it hurt a little," he said, defiantly. "But it felt real sexy, too. You want to do some good with that hand, put it on my dick."

Keeping a firm grip on Vinnie's cock, Sonny began sinking slowly onto him, finding the angle and speed, the depth of penetration he liked best. Vince followed the changing rhythms with his hand, stroking Sonny as he raised and lowered himself onto the straining shaft. Sonny's eyes were closed, his brows drawn into a frown with the intentness of his pleasure, lost in the sensation of Vinnie's sex inside him. It was incredible to watch Sonny fucking himself. The eroticism of the vision enveloped Vince like a drug, clouding and magnifying every sensation with the heightened potency of a dream. As if weaving a spell, his hand glided over and over Sonny's upthrust cock and his lips repeated Sonny's name in a soundless incantation, willing him to a completion that would encompass them both.

Then Steelgrave opened his eyes. His parted lips shaped Vinnie's name, so that the spell spun backwards, wrapping him in its sensuous coils. The languorous tempo did not alter, but now Sonny's awareness was fixed on Vinnie, searching his face to discover what movements aroused him the most, and repeating them with subtle variations. With calculated provocation, Sonny squeezed the base of Vinnie's cock, then took his hand away, so that the next descent of his hips took Vince all the way inside. He moaned a warning, but Sonny gave him one of his lazy, dangerous smiles and quickened the rhythm of his hips. Vinnie wrestled with the growing pleasure, fearful of succumbing too soon, of driving too deep. The more he struggled, the tighter Sonny bound him, his movements ever more demanding. Vinnie groaned and squirmed away from the escalating stimulation, till he found himself flat on his back in the middle of the bed, with Sonny laughing silently above him, his ass working slow circles on Vinnie's cock.

Vince thought he couldn't take another tormented moment when Sonny suddenly quickened the pace, doubling the level of excitation. For a minute, Vinnie set his teeth and matched his swiftness, his hand madly working Sonny's throbbing sex. Then, in pure desperation, Vinnie let go of Sonny's cock and flung out his hands to grab two fistfuls of sheet, feeling his muscles tremble with the stress of holding back. Drawing a deep breath, Sonny paused, licking his lips while his eyes surveyed Vinnie's crucified posture with acute interest. Snuggling his ass down to the root of Vinnie's cock, he reached back, idly fondling Vinnie's balls. "Oooh, these are gettin' tight," he clucked with mock sympathy. "You must want to come real bad."

"Don't!", Vince gasped as Sonny rolled the taut sac with his palm, then ever so gently squeezed. He groaned in frustration, every second a siege. "You're makin' me crazy, Sonny."

"I like you crazy. I want you crazy for me." Sonny's voice taunted. Taking hold of his cock, he jerked himself once, hard. Vince watched the flushed shaft quiver and pulse hotly, ready to explode, and he moaned as if it were his own. "See, Vinnie, I'm ready too."

Vince felt the last threads of his control snapping, strand by shivering strand. "Sonny, I'll hurt you," he whispered hoarsely.

"I'll take it as deep as you can shove it, Terranova," Sonny whispered back. Hot embers burned in the blackness of his eyes. "Let go. I'll ride you. Gimme everything you got."

"Oh God . . . ." Digging his fingers into the mattress, Vinnie surrendered to the torrent of desire that swept through him, his hips thrusting up wildly into Sonny. A shudder ran through Steelgrave's body, but there was no pain on his face. He blazed with triumph. Gripping Vinnie's flanks tighter with his legs, Sonny pumped his own cock in the same furious rhythm as Vinnie's battering thrusts. Watching the frantic stroking, Vince felt it was his own cock that Sonny was milking, two ways at once. Feeling his release irrevocably linked to Sonny's, Vinnie keened his need and Sonny's voice resonated the same sound, wild and shrill. Their gazes locked, he saw Sonny's face seized by feral joy, and felt the same raw ecstasy riveting every muscle of his body. He cried out as Sonny's ass clenched tight around him, cried out again as he saw the jism flying from Sonny's cock even as he came deep inside him. And then their voices were one with the jolting pulsations of orgasm that wracked them with savage pleasure.

. . . . For a minute there was nothing but gasping and panting—a slow, shaky return to something that vaguely resembled sanity. Just when Vince thought he had recovered, Sonny gave him a fiendish smile and clamped his ass muscles around Vinnie's fading erection, inflicting a final squeeze that made his whole body buck in reflex. "Sonny!" he croaked. "Jesus . . . you win . . . you win."

"I told you I like you crazy," Sonny grinned down at him. Glittering with sweat and streaked with come, he was obviously delighted with himself, Vinnie, and the general state of the universe. Savoring his own satisfaction, Sonny pursed his lips and blew Vinnie a kiss, then topped it with his lewdest drawl. "Ooooo, baby, you fucked me sooo good."

Giddy with pleasure and relief, Vinnie covered his face with his hands and started laughing. "You are fucking outrageous, you know?"

"Outrageous is just one of my multitudinous virtues. Hey, you're laughing so hard you slipped out. Dammit, Terranova, the towel's dropped out of reach."

∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴ ∴

Heading for the shower, Sonny told him to order dinner. Vinnie thumbed through the wine list, choosing his favorite Chianti, dry and rich, then looking for something hearty to go with it. Famished, he settled on the chicken _puttenesca_ with black olives and capers, a zesty pasta dish they both liked, plus a spinach salad. Smiling to himself, he picked out profiteroles and champagne for dessert. He phoned for room service, then curbed his sudden urge to go trap Sonny in the shower and make him the antipasto. Hell, they'd be millionaires if they could bottle what Sonny did to his hormones. Vinnie wished he could believe the attraction was so strong because years of tantalizing fantasies about male lovers had finally been allowed physical life. But those had been vague longings, unsettling and intriguing, hardly a thwarted obsession. Being around Sonny had sparked excitement in him from the first, long before sex added its fire to the dynamic between them.

Sonny emerged bundled in one of the plush, white terry robes that came and went with the towel service. Vinnie escaped to the shower, letting the water run long and hot, his conflicts submerged as long as he stood beneath the drenching spray. Wrapping himself in a duplicate white robe, Vinnie returned to find the food waiting on the small table in the bedroom, its rich aroma scenting the air. Sonny had wine glasses filled. He handed Vinnie one, then clinked the rims. "To us," he toasted.

"To us," Vinnie repeated, feeling his heart lurch.

Sonny kissed him playfully, giving his lower lip a little nip. Then he gestured to the table, and they sat down and attacked the waiting feast with relish. Sonny was buoyant, clearly pleased at the success of their encounter. He was high enough to carry most of the conversation, his eyes sparkling as he chattered on about boxing, soliciting Vinnie's opinion now and again. Watching him as the meal progressed, Vinnie's misgivings returned _en masse_ and his appetite plummeted. He already liked Sonny far too much, and this new intimacy was going to eat him like acid. Even at the first, when rage at Dave Steelgrave had been churning his guts, Vinnie had been drawn by Sonny's mercurial energy and zany charm, by his warmth, and the generosity that was genuine as well as blatantly manipulative.

"What you think of new kid at the gym?" Sonny asked, refilling his wine glass and urging bread on him. "Will he toughen up or not?"

Vince had tracked the conversation well enough to give a sensible answer, and Sonny took it and argued happily, echoes of the moves he described playing through his muscles. Vinnie thought he'd never seen anyone who looked so vividly alive.

He couldn't let it matter that he liked Sonny, Vince argued inwardly, and he should never have let himself respond to the erotic allure he felt. No matter how much the man fascinated him, all the qualities that were good about Sonny didn't change the bad. Steelgrave was corrupt, despotic, and deadly dangerous. He belonged behind bars.

Except that being the one to put him there was getting more painful all the time. The thought of Sonny's wild cat energy caged and fuming made Vinnie queasy, and he pushed the pasta around aimlessly, plagued by unhappy visions. One minute he thought that if Sonny were locked up, the craziness would escalate. He'd get himself killed, or tossed into the black pit of solitary. Then he remembered stories of aborigines who withered and died when shut up in prison _. Pure melodrama, Terranova,_ he told himself sternly. Probably Steelgrave would find a way to run his whole show from inside. Then he saw Curly Joe's massive frame pinning Sonny against the wall, and felt his heart thudding with horror. No. It would never happen. Mob kingpins did not get raped in prison, not by anyone who wanted to keep their balls.

"You don't like the food, Vinnie?" Sonny asked, and Vinnie looked up to meet a pair of curious eyes.

"The food's fabulous," he said, and made himself take another mouthful of chicken, another swallow of wine. Sonny's plate was clean, and the profiteroles were waiting. He'd ordered the tiny cream puffs, Vinnie remembered, because he thought it would be sexy to feed them to each other one by one, and lick the sticky chocolate sauce off each other's fingers. Lick it off each other's cocks.

Christ, how was he going to face Sonny, day after day, now that Sonny had given him this, knowing he was going to bring him down? Maybe he shouldn't try and face him. Maybe it was time to pull out and let the OCB take over. One thing he did know was that however much Sonny hated him, he was not going to spend the rest of his life remembering that he'd let Vince Terranova fuck him every way a man could. Even if Sonny never learned his part in it, Vinnie couldn't bear to leave things as they were now.

Rising abruptly, Vinnie walked over the bed and grabbed the tube of lubricant from the table, catching Sonny's startled face in his peripheral vision. He stalked into the bathroom, shut the door, leaning back against it for a second before turning around and locking it. He didn't trust Sonny not to come barging in. Tossing off his robe, Vinnie squeezed some of the cream onto his fingers. Gritting his teeth, he parted his cheeks and pressed a finger inside himself. Even one of his own fingers felt like an alien invasion, but he withdrew it only to make himself force more cream inside. He'd rather prep himself, there was no way he could look on this as pleasant foreplay.

"Hey, Vinnie," Sonny said outside the door.

"In a minute." At least he hadn't yelled, _Shut up and leave me alone._ Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing, to have to get past this ugly residue of fear. It was ridiculous to glory in the pleasure he'd given Sonny and be afraid to be touched the same way himself.

He washed his hands and splashed cold water in his face then, lubricant in hand, Vinnie opened the door and walked naked to the bed. Sitting down, he glanced beside him in invitation. 

Sonny still hovered in the doorway, his dark eyes making their own assessment. "We been having a good time, Vince. We don't have to rush things."

"I thought you wanted to fuck me so bad you could taste it, Sonny," he answered, deliberately provocative, and was gratified by the flash of fire in Sonny's eyes. "You want it. Why don't you come get it?"

Sonny didn't move. "I want you to want it. I want you to want me."

"I want you." He made the rest a challenge.

Sonny approached him warily, stopping almost out of range. But he was close enough to reach out and trace a finger on Vinnie's cheek. It was an effort not to slap the hand away. He always hated being touched when he was spooked.

"You look like you're ready to jump outta your skin, Vinnie."

It was easier to touch than be touched. Grabbing hold of Sonny's sash, he pulled him closer, then tugged it loose. The robe fell open around a half swollen cock. Vinnie made himself grasp it, feel it throb and stretch, knowing he was going to take it inside of him.

"I don't like this," Sonny said. But he braced his legs, hips thrusting his cock into Vinnie's enclosing grip.

"Oh yeah, you do," Vince insisted, feeling a bitter satisfaction at Steelgrave's ambivalence. Stroking harder, he grabbed the open tube of lubricant with his other hand, and squeezed the cream on his working fist on Sonny's now straining sex. Then he tossed it onto the floor and fondled Sonny's balls along with his cock.

Vinnie kept at it until he got the first real moan out of Steelgrave; then he lay back and made a place beside him on the bed. Sonny's eyes were glazed with hunger, but he still paused, frowning, before shedding the robe and lowering himself to lie beside Vince. They stared at each other for a moment, before Sonny reached out to stroke his chest in a gentle massage. "Lemme bring you off first, Vinnie. Make you more relaxed," he offered, trying to lighten the mood.

Sonny's hand skimmed down Vinnie's torso, fingertips tracing gentle circles on his abdomen. Electric flashes jittered under his skin, and his stomach muscles contracted away from the touch. The fear was making him hyper-sensitive. All the enticing things Sonny tried to do to arouse him felt too intense. Even Sonny's tongue on his nipples was too much. He flinched from Sonny's hand on his flaccid cock.

Sensing real trouble, Sonny sat up. "You don't have to do this, Vince."

"Yes I do."

"Not tonight," Sonny placated. "There's all the time in the world. We can . . . ."

"Listen to me," Vinnie grated, taking hold of his arms. Sonny shut up. "Yeah, I'm scared to death, but it's not going to get any easier putting it off. I got all these ugly memories in my head. I just gotta get past them."

Full of misgiving, the dark eyes searched his own. He knew damn well Steelgrave didn't want to become part of the ugliness. Vinnie could see the minute shake off his head that augured denial. "I need you," he pleaded, tightening his grip. "I need you inside of me, to show me how good it can be."

Vinnie lay down on his stomach, offering his ass _. If Steelgrave backs out now,_ he thought, _I'll beat him to a pulp._ There was a pause, and he felt Sonny's hand on his shoulder, insisting he roll over. Vinnie didn't like it, but at least there was no more goddamn argument. He went with the pull, turning back to meet Sonny's worried gaze. "I gotta see your face, man. I gotta know what you're feeling."

"Fear turns you on, huh?" he snapped, hating the exposure. Then, shamed by the hurt in Sonny's eyes, he mumbled, "I'm sorry . . . . Just do it, please, Sonny. Waiting is only making it worse."

"Okay, we'll play it your way," Sonny agreed. "But you got to tell me how you want it, slower, faster, whatever. You want to get on top?"

"No!" Vinnie shook his head; the idea of orchestrating his own impalement appalled him.

"Like this then. Close," Sonny said, easing between his thighs and drawing Vinnie's legs over his arms. Guiding his cock between Vinnie's cheeks, Sonny fit the head of his cock snub against the anus, rubbing there with the same gentle, deliberate pressure Vinnie had used on him, entreating the clenched muscle to open to him. Even with the cream, gentleness was getting them nowhere. "You're too tight."

"Just do it," Vinnie demanded.

With a short, hard thrust, Sonny pushed into him, pushed excruciating pain into him.

"Wait." Vince gasped, then realized Steelgrave wasn't moving, but holding himself utterly still, realized that it was no more than the head of the other man's cock causing the agony racking his body. "Wait," he gritted out again. Even with Steelgrave motionless, it took all Vinnie's control not to shove him away. Off of him. Out of him.

"If it's too bad, we'll stop," Sonny said.

"No," Vinnie insisted. "I'll get used to it." But he didn't. The pain, the sense of invasion seemed unending, absolute. His body was rigid in protest, everything but his cock. Finally he forced himself to whisper, "Move."

"Vince . . . ."

"Move," he made it an order.

Sonny went deeper, inch by inch, his black eyes searching Vinnie's for some sign of change, for a flicker of pleasure. Vinnie closed his eyes, stifling his moans until he felt suffocated, lost, descending into some dark hellish nightmare. Every infinitesimal thrust of Sonny's cock took him deeper into that hell. Physical and emotional pain melded into an indistinguishable blur, and sensation mutated into a torturous barrage of memory: Sonny stood, looking down at the bed. _"I want you to want it,"_ he said, and Vinnie was back in the joint, Curly Joe knocking his breath out as he slammed him against the wall and jammed his fat cock inside him. Pain split him open, and Sonny's voice rasped, _"You sure guys do this for kicks?"_ Scalding humiliation became black rage as Curly Joe's face crushed under Vinnie's fists. Rage became the giddy, savage rush of excitement as he swung the baseball bat while Sonny laughed and whapped the roof of the car, saying _, "You and me, pal, you and me we're gonna have some real fun."_ And all the while Vinnie kept hearing the muffled screams of the pretty boy in the next cell, while six men fucked him half to death.

"Vinnie, relax . . . relax. You're safe," Sonny murmured, somewhere in what used to be reality. Vince could feel Sonny's hands stroking him everywhere that seemed safe, their pressure gentle and soothing. But Sonny wasn't only those kind hands, the consoling voice, he was the unrelenting pain lodged deep inside Vince. "I promise you—you're safe with me."

Sonny had stopped, Vinnie realized, giving him time to adjust. But he didn't want to get used to this horror, he only wanted it over. "Keep moving," he growled, but the first cautious thrust drove him back into darkness. Reality and nightmare, pain and desire glittered like shards of a shattered mirror, reflecting each other. Steelgrave was handing him the gun to take out Hawthorne. Vinnie felt the hardness in his hand, cold and ominous, as Sonny said, _"Why don't you fuck me first, Vinnie?"_ Coldness gave way to heat as he sheathed himself inside of molten silk, while Sonny stared up at him, whispering, " _I never imagined it would feel like this."_ Fire and ice burned his nerves as Vinnie plunged deeper, deeper, as Sonny writhed beneath him, moaning his pleasure . . . .

Above him, Sonny moaned, the husky timbre the same as Vinnie's memory, echoing weirdly in his mind. But the sound drew him to the present, to Sonny hard inside him . . . to Sonny's hand gently stroking his cock. Vinnie felt a pang of arousal stir his sex, and Sonny's hand tightened, urging his response. But the pleasure mingled with the pain so strangely he felt nauseous. "Don't."

"Vince . . . . " Sonny pleaded.

"Don't," he groaned.

The hand lingered, and then withdrew. Carefully, Sonny adjusted their position, sinking in a fraction deeper, a subtle delving that sent pain streaking through Vinnie's gut. His body contracted around the invader. Sonny moaned again, and Vinnie could hear the edge of desperation in it. He knew that Sonny was fighting against his own excitement, fighting for control. Deliberately, Vinnie opened his legs, crying out even as he forced Steelgrave deeper. This time it was Sonny who gasped, "Don't." Vinnie stopped, though if he could make Steelgrave come there would be an end to this hell.

. . . . Except that hell was for eternity and the last, the deepest circle, was for traitors.

"Sweet Jesus," he whispered, knowing the horror of having chosen his own damnation. He'd told himself he'd wanted to give Sonny pleasure, but it was this pain that was his gift, the pain of his betrayal, his guilt, his shame, offered up instead. Expiation—but for himself. Just another cheat, another betrayal of Sonny, who had given himself without reservation. The images whirled in Vinnie's mind again—the seductive sweetness of Sonny's first kiss, tentative fingers entwining with his own. Sonny trembling beneath him as Vinnie's teeth edged delicately round his sex. Sonny riding atop him, shuddering with triumphant passion as Vinnie drove deep inside. The wrenching, white hot ecstasy as their cocks exploded together, Sonny's pleasure indistinguishable from his own. A sob caught in Vinnie's throat, choking him so he could not speak, could not breathe.

"Vinnie," Sonny called to him. Vince forced stillness out of the chaos of pain and turmoil, and in that stillness became aware of how hard he was shaking, of his bruising grip on Sonny's arms, aware of the hot streaks of his own tears. He covered his face with his arm, but Sonny pulled it away, "Look at me, Vinnie."

Vinnie opened his eyes. Sonny was drenched in sweat, and fine tremors raced under his skin. "We gotta stop."

He shook his head.

"This is killing me, man. I don't want to hurt you." He touched Vinnie's face tenderly, stroking the damp hair back from his forehead. "I love you."

"No . . . ." He gripped Sonny again, tighter. Closing his eyes he pressed his forehead against the other man's chest. The movement brought pain, but it was less now than the pain of his heart contracting. In the darkness inside himself, he heard Sonny draw a sharp breath, then release it in a sigh.

"I forget . . . you're an old-fashioned boy," Sonny murmured, teasing with such anguished tenderness that it melted the sob caught in Vinnie's throat. "You like sweet talk, Vincenzo?"

He shook his head.

"Vincenzo," Sonny repeated, and the Italian syllables were a caress in themselves. "It's true, you know. I do love you."

There was no false note. It was not an avowal of mad passion, but an offering of tenderness and affection. It was the truth. Sonny's friendship. Sonny's love.

"Don't . . . ." But it was too late for warnings. Sonny shouldn't love him, but he wanted it. He wanted the soothing, honeyed warmth that poured over him as much as he'd wanted to plunge into the fire of Sonny's body.

"Let me love you, Vincenzo."

Something gave way within him. As if his heart ripped, pain shredding him open. But behind the pain was something else. At first the relief was so profound Vinnie could not recognize it as pleasure. He only knew that he could breathe again. Though he could hear, as if from a distance, that his breaths were still sobs, they lifted him so that he floated free.

"Let me . . . let me." The words licked at him, warm and soft as Sonny's tongue.

"Yes . . . ." One word, a sigh woven in the breath, a barely audible acquiescence. But Sonny heard and answered, drawing him closer, pressing deeper inside. There was pain again, but it was brief, a muted sting around the bright swell of pleasure. Vinnie sobbed, but the sobs opened him, lifted him, like swelling waves that rose and subsided, each one taking him higher. Each one beginning deeper, deeper inside him, in the darkness where Sonny touched him, and rising up, lifting him into the brightness. His heart was beating like something with wings. Hot and cold flashes feathered along his nerves, wind and fire shimmering.

"Vincenzo," Sonny said again. "Open your eyes."

He did, and saw Sonny watching him with eyes velvet black as the night, an impenetrable and merciless darkness. Yet the opaque darkness gave out light, radiated a warmth that touched him, caressed him, palpable as Sonny's hands stroking him, inescapable, irresistible, as Sonny's cock buried deep inside him.

"It's sweet isn't it?" Sonny said, his expression rapt and intent. "When you were in me like this, it was the sweetest thing in the world."

"Yes," he answered, and it was true.

He felt his own trembling, and Sonny's trembling as he pressed into him, slowly, with infinite care, though there was no pain any more, none, only the pleasure rippling through him, another wave and another. All his barriers were crumbling, and he could not stop them now if he wanted to—no more in control of the pleasure than he had been of the pain. Slowly, smoothly, Sonny drew back and thrust. Vince gasped as sensation strobed in every atom of his body, bright and dark, a vivid blindness, an exquisite and unbearable revelation.

"Vincenzo," the whisper beckoned. "Vincenzo . . . let it happen."

"Sonny," he sobbed. Then it all became one, the sweetness, the fire, the sobbing of breath and the throbbing of sex fused into a single overwhelming pulsation. He felt the hot rush of semen bathing his belly, felt his own deep contractions closing on Sonny's cock. Sonny gasped, though he held still as Vinnie came, arching against him. He waited, holding Vinnie close, being the perfect, unmoving center of the dissolving universe as the light melted into darkness and the darkness burned with an incendiary joy.

Then, slowly, the world returned and the all-encompassing embrace became Sonny's arms, and the all-consuming darkness Sonny's eyes. Vinnie felt the trembling of their bodies meshing, his release and Sonny's unfulfilled need. He held Sonny's gaze as he whispered, again, "Yes . . . . I want you. I want it."

Then Sonny thrust once, hard, and cried out as his own climax took him, "Oh God . . . Vinnie."

The hot pulse of Sonny's pleasure shuddered through him, blending with his own in an overlapping rhythm, the wild, surging crash and soft, sweeping retreat of ocean waves. And like sea sounds, his breathless sighs blended with Sonny's last low moans. Long after the orgasm had subsided, Vinnie lay, still shaking. Even after the tremors waned, he could barely move, though he managed to caress Sonny as he disentangled their limbs and lay beside him, stroking Vinnie with tender possessiveness. And when Sonny kissed him, their lips clung softly, reluctant to part.

Vinnie felt sleep pulling him, a dark yet comforting undertow. He wanted to say something, but words refused to shape themselves to his gratitude, his wonder. "You were so good to me," he whispered at last.

"I wanted to get inside you, Vincenzo," Sonny answered. "How much closer could I get?" And then, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I can screw around all I want, Vinnie. Making love, that's a gift." 


End file.
